


Her Funeral

by beeyouteaful



Category: Crimson Peak (2015)
Genre: F/M, Mystery, Romance, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-03-31 13:19:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3979483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beeyouteaful/pseuds/beeyouteaful
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sister died two days ago."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sister's Funeral

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first time writing Sir Thomas Sharpe, and I have absolutely no knowledge of his personality/character besides the things I've seen in the Crimson Peak trailers. 
> 
> I got the idea for this story from listening to sad piano music with Rainy Mood in the background, and I'm gonna see where this takes me.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Sister died two days ago. We knew she hadn’t had long to live, but...we didn’t think she would be gone so soon. Mother cried for the past two days. I don’t blame her. Her first born was gone. Father hadn’t had time to mourn. He’d been taking care of mother and drying her tears. Cecilia’s fiancé, Richard, had offered to stay with us for the days leading up to the funeral. Mother had always liked him. He was dashing and handsome, no doubt. Cecilia only had eyes for the good-looking men with big checkbooks. It’s funny; two days ago, Sister had told me that I should find a man like Richard. I hadn’t even thought of looking for a suitor. I’m only just 18. I haven’t even seen the world yet! But, I digress.

I was chosen to give the eulogy… I didn’t know the first thing about writing one, and I couldn’t articulate my thoughts into words on parchment that wouldn’t somehow offend a member of the town. I scraped together a meaningful speech to celebrate her life and pass her on to the afterlife, or wherever we go when we die.

Today was the funeral. The whole town showed up at the church to pay their respects. Even Marjorie, the town drunkard, dressed in a beautiful black gown. Everyone looked so nice for a dead woman. Funeral customs are so strange. I guess it’s due to the religious background of the burial. Once, Father said it rains on the day of a funeral because the angels cry for those we lose. Coincidentally, it was raining.

We all crowded into the church, and everyone took their seats in the pews. The humid air clung to my legs under my hoopskirt, and I could feel myself getting more and more worked up at speaking in front of the whole town. I cleared my throat as I tried to get comfortable behind the podium. I began my speech, barely looking up at the audience. I fidgeted a lot, but my voice never shook. The truth is that I felt strange with everyone staring at me. I looked up once, just to asses my surroundings, but absolutely no one was looking at me. _How peculiar_ , I thought. I looked back down at the parchment. They all had their heads down, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of someone’s eyes on me. I looked up once more, and directly in front of me, in the dead center of the church, was a man, staring at me with soft, blue eyes. I had never seen him before, but he was beautiful; his porcelain cheeks looked as if they were carved from marble by the Greeks themselves. His curly, black hair was slicked back, and his lips were thin, but curved to perfection. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. He smiled shyly at me, seeming to tell me silently that I was doing okay.

I realized then that I had lost my words when I looked at him, and everyone else was indeed looking at me. I cleared my throat once more and continued on with my speech. The intensity of his stare burned through my skull and through the back of my neck. I felt the heat from my legs creep up my chest, and I started sweating. Quietly, I pulled my fan from my sleeve and opened it to cool myself. My chest heaved with effort under the corset I wore, which Mother had tied a bit too tight. The room wavered. I looked out at the man again, pleading with my eyes for help. His expression twisted into one of concern, and he stood, right as I fell to the floor. Everything went black.

 

* * *

 

I awoke to a crowd of people surrounding me.

“Give her air!” I heard someone shout. “Everyone, please go back to your places!” My eyes focused on Mother, trying to cool me off with her silk fan. The people dispersed and took their seats again, while Mother, Father and Richard sat around me.

“What happened?” I asked, dazed and confused as to how I got on the floor.

“You fainted during your eulogy.”

“Well, maybe if you didn’t tie my corset so tight,” I chuckled.

“Now is no time for foolish jokes, (y/n).” I frowned. “Finish the eulogy.” Richard helped me stand and gave a sympathetic look before he turned to go back to his seat. I smoothed out my skirt and took my place at the podium again. I apologized for my fainting spell, and continued where I left off. This time, I didn’t care that everyone was looking at me. All I cared about was the man at the center of the church. I looked to him for comfort. He smiled at me, even in this sad time. I felt comfortable when he watched me, and I finished the speech with ease.

Soon after, everyone filed out of the church and made their way to the graveyard. I didn’t bother with my umbrella; the cool raindrops soothed my skin. It’s not like my dress would reveal anything, anyway. Black was slimming, even when soaked.

I watched as the preacher said the ceremonial last words, and asked if anyone else had other words for the poor, dead girl. Suddenly, the rain stopped falling on me, and I looked up to see a black umbrella held over me. I turned to find the young man from the church holding it over our heads.

“Thank you,” I graciously accepted his company.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, Miss (y/n).” His voice was silky and devilishly divine, like chocolate from South America.

“That’s very kind of you, sir. May I ask your name?” I whispered, loud enough for him, but quiet enough not to disturb the procession. He held his gloved hand out.

“Sir Thomas Sharpe.” I took his hand, and he brought mine to his lips, kissing over my own silk gloves.

“You’re quite the sight, if I may say so,” I mused, turning back around to face the grave.

“Your spirits are quite high for such a traumatic event as your sister’s funeral.”

“I think it’s how I cope with loss. Humor, I mean.” Something about him made my heart jump in my chest. His looks were beyond average, yes. But I could sense more to him than meets the eye. I thought about his eyes for a moment. I could get lost in those gorgeous pools of clear blue. “Sir Sharpe?” I asked, still watching the burial.

“Please, Thomas is perfectly fine.”

“ _Thomas_ , then?”

“Yes?”

“Would you like to have dinner sometime?”

“I think I would, Miss (y/n). Maybe on a more…cheerful day, perhaps?” I giggled at his words.

“Yes, that would be ideal,” I said. “I don’t think my parents would appreciate my bringing home of a man on the day of Cecilia's funeral. I mean, they already don’t like me as it is.”

“I doubt that, really,” he countered, rubbing my shoulder with his free hand.

“Oh, no, it’s true.” I looked over at my parents and Richard. Mother shot daggers from her eyes that could easily make Sister’s grave into one for two. “They say it’s because I have the devil inside me.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Tell me this; if I were a devil child, would I be able to stand on this Holy Ground? No, I wouldn’t. Something Mother fails to realize.” We stood in silence for some moments. “Thomas, are you a Christian man?”

“I cannot say that I am.”

“Nor am I a Christian woman. Mother would disapprove of you in an instant.” Thomas laughed at my quip. “She can barely handle one devil child, let alone a devil child, her devil suitor, and devil grandchildren,” I muttered.

“Are you saying you’d like me to be your suitor?” Thomas questioned. I froze. I didn’t mean to speak that much aloud.

“I think I am,” I replied coolly. “Would you accept if I was?”

“I mean, considering you practically swooned and fawned over me inside the church.”

“I did _not_ ,” I snorted.

“You _fell_ for me pretty hard.” I turned to face him, and he flashed me a dazzlingly white grin. “I heard a thump…” His eyes were almost hypnotizing, and I could feel my heartbeat racing. I looked down at his pink lips, and back up to his sparkling eyes.

“Thomas… Would it be wrong if we—” He pressed his lips to mine to shut me up before I could even ask. He cradled my cheek in his hand and I placed my hands on his chest for support. His lips were like the clouds floating in the blue sky on a spring day. I melted into his touch. In that moment, nothing else mattered except for Thomas and myself.


	2. Night Crawler

“You made a _fool_ of yourself today, (y/n). A complete fool! I can’t believe you’d act that way at your sister’s funeral. How could you?” Mother fumed.

“Mother, Sister was always telling me how I need I find someone to court! She would have wanted this," I retorted, pulling out my braids and brushing my locks. She paced around the dining table.

"I thought I raised you to be a wholesome, Christian woman."

"You did, Mother," I told her, matter-of-factly.

"Well, you're going around gallivanting with the first man who gave you the time of day! You barely know him! For all we know, he's a Satanist! He _did_ only wear dark colors—"

"Mother, he was attending a funeral!" I laughed in disbelief. "I can't control my heart. How could you be so selfish?"

"She was your sister!"

"And I _am_ your daughter! Cecilia is dead, Mother. It is not my fault for falling for a tall, handsome man at the time of her death! We knew she wasn't going to live much longer, so I don't understand why it's so hard for you to realize that this is how I'm going to cope!" I shouted. "He's kind, and thoughtful, and he was the only person paying attention to my eulogy! He watched me faint! Right before everything fell dark, I saw him stand to help me. Tell me that isn't the most gentlemanly notion anyone has ever given me!"

"I don't care if he's the King of England! You do not disrespect family like that, you insolent girl!" Father walked in right as she slapped my cheek.

" _Elizabeth._ " Father's voice dripped with malice. He knelt down in front of me and cradled my cheek, silently asking if I was okay. The tears stung as they rolled down my cheeks, but I nodded. He turned back to Mother. "I can't believe you would hurt your daughter like that. After your eldest passes, nonetheless!"

"She blatantly threw herself at a man today during the funeral! She is a disrespectful, ignorant, rude little girl!"

"Enough! She's the only child you have left. Treat her with some semblance of the respect you gave Cecilia." Mother stormed out of the room, and I sobbed into Father's night shirt.

"Why does she hate me?" Normally, he sided with Mother on everything. It was a strange switch of character. I knew he always loved me more than she did, but I never thought he would stick up for me like that.

"She doesn't hate you, (y/n)." He pulled me into his arms. "Death is difficult. I know I probably should not tell you this, but Mother always...preferred Cecilia over you." I laughed between sobs.

"It _is_ obvious. You don't have to tell me twice."

"Hush. I know I side with her on a lot of matters, but I've always secretly been on your side. You're strong, beautiful, and intelligent. I think it's wonderful that you've found a suitor. And if you ask me," he looked back at the kitchen door, as if to make sure no one could hear him, "I think a pagan man would do you some good. You could learn a lot more about the universe."

"Father, he's not a _pagan_." I grinned at him. "At least, I don't think so."

"Well, either way. I think he'll be a fine gentleman caller." He kissed my cheek. "I want to meet this young Thomas before he takes you out on the town tomorrow."

"I love you, Papa."

"I love you, too. Get some rest."

 

* * *

 

As I lay in bed that night, I couldn’t stop thinking of Thomas and his gorgeous eyes. I stared into the dark, and I felt as if I could see them on the wall. Not to mention his sultry voice. _And the way he said my name…_ I could almost hear him say it. I would melt if he recited Shakespeare to me. Wouldn’t that be a sight? I sighed and nestled back into my bed.

 _(Y/n)!_ My mind needed to shut down and stop thinking about Thomas, lest I not sleep and be grouchy for our date.

 _(Y/n)!_ It wouldn’t stop. I didn’t know why I couldn’t—

“(Y/n)!” I sat up in my bed and rubbed my eyes.

“Thomas?” I waited in silence with the blankets pulled up to my chin. I heard him shout again, followed by a pebble hitting my window. I threw off the duvet and tiptoed over to the glass. Sure enough, he was standing under the shadow of the oak tree. I unlocked the latch and used all of my might to push the window up and prop it open with a piece of scrap wood. “What on Earth are you—” I yelped as another pebble zipped past my ear and rattled on the floor behind me.

“I am so sorry! I didn’t notice you opening the window!” he sort of scream-whispered. The wind shook the tree branches, and the moon cast brilliant beams of light on him through the swaying leaves.

“How did you even know this was my room?”

“I guessed!” he laughed.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Come down here.”

“Did you even hear what I just said?”

“Please, just come down! I couldn’t wait to see you again.”

“You sound like a mad man, Thomas.”

"Come on!" I hesitated for only a second longer before lighting a candle and taking off down the stairs into the foyer. I inched the front door open in hopes that the usual squeak wouldn't wake up my parents. Luckily, it didn't even make a sound, and I slipped out undetected.

"What are you doing here?" I wrapped my arms around myself and tiptoed over to him. My toes curled in the damp grass. Luckily, there was no breeze, so my candle didn’t burn out.

"I had to see you again," he breathed with a toothy grin.

"And you just _could not_ have waited a few more hours?"

"I'm infatuated with you," Thomas admitted. "You're the most exciting girl I've ever met."

"I fainted at a funeral! How is that exciting?"

"No, no!" he chuckled. "You're exciting. The way you speak, and dress, and your opinions on life are exhilarating!"

"Thomas, you need to remember to breathe, darling." His energy was infectious. “It’s three in the morning!”

“I know. I know. But, (y/n), I couldn’t get over your laugh. Your smile. Everything about you!”

“I think you need some rest, Thomas. I’m not that exciting,” I yawned, bringing my free hand up to cover my mouth. He started to speak, but quickly shut his mouth again. “What is it?”

“What happened to your cheek?” he asked. I reached up and brushed my sore skin with my fingertips.

“It’s nothing, I—”

“Who has hurt you?” He placed his hand on my shoulder and squeezed lightly.

“I said it’s nothing, Thomas.”

“I’m not going to ask again. Who hurt you?” I could tell by his tone that he would not tolerate another excuse. I inhaled sharply.

“Mother…” I tried to choose my words carefully, “thought I was disrespectful today and punished me as she saw fit.”

“She slapped you?” I nodded. A fire burned behind his blue irises, and I stayed silent as he simmered. “That is unacceptable.”

“Thomas, it’s fine. Please do not worry yourself with it.” He didn’t protest. I took that as a sign to take his hand in mine and squeeze it reassuringly as I led him to the back of the house. The candle flickered and blew out, but it didn’t matter; the moon shone bright enough to light our path. The humid air dissipated with the light of the candle, and I felt at ease again after riling Thomas up.

“What a lovely night, isn’t it?” he asked. I smiled up at him.

“A lovely night, yes, but at such an ungodly hour.” An idea popped into my head as soon as we rounded the side of the house. I found my second wind and turned to face him again. “Care to get lost in the hedge maze?” I gestured to the huge, perfectly cropped bushes behind me. A mischievous smile crept across Thomas’s visage, and I dropped the candle and took off running. He laughed and chased after me, following my movements through the corners of the maze. No matter how many times I had found my way through it, I ended up lost every once in a while.

“You can’t run forever!” he called playfully.

“I can try!” My breathing turned heavy and irregular as I sprinted around the hedges. Every turn seemed new and uncharted, even though the path I treaded was the same as in times past. I had to watch my footing for roots and thorns that could slow me down. _Bare feet. Not smart._ I turned to look back and assess the distance between us. _I’ve lost him,_ I thought with a grin. Just as I turned around to watch my step, I ran smack into a hedge-wall, screaming out in surprise. I felt Thomas’s arms wrap around my waist, and he spun me around.

“Caught you,” he said, setting me down.

“Looks like you did,” I panted. My chest bounced with each breath, and I prayed he noticed. I was never one for moving so fast in a courtship, but something about Thomas made me want to do the most reckless deeds imaginable. It was then that I _really_ noticed his eyes for the first time. They were ice blue with grey flecks, and they sparkled like aquamarines in the moonlight. I reached up to push a stray, raven hair from their way. He leaned into my touch, and I smiled lightly. “You are a beautiful man, Thomas.” He kissed me then, soft, yet passionately. His thin lips massaged my own, and I could already feel them swelling.

The two of us found the center of the maze and lay together by the fountain for hours, talking and laughing and just enjoying the night. His warm arms held me close, and his breathing matched mine. His heart beat soothed me and made me feel more at home than ever. My eyelids were heavy with lack of sleep.

“Are you tired?”

“Yes.”

“I should go. You need sleep.”

“Please don’t.”

“(Y/n), you’re exhausted.”

“Shhh. Just sleep here.”

“Darling, you’ll get pneumonia.” Thomas shifted so he was sitting with my head in his lap. “Come on.”

“But, _Thomas_.” He grinned at my refusal.

“I have to leave before the sun rises, so your parents don’t realize I’ve been here.”

“Who cares what they think?” I slurred. Thomas sighed and lifted me into his arms. The sky was still dark, but he was right; the sun would rise soon, and my parents would wake. “Will I still see you tonight?”

“Of course. I would not miss it for the world,” he replied. I told Thomas the way to my chambers, and he carried me all the way upstairs, careful not to make any sounds. He pushed my door open with his foot and crossed the room to place me on the bed.

“Goodnight, Thomas.” He kissed my forehead after tucking me in.

“Goodnight, love.” I watched his blurry shadow leave, and soon, he was gone. Sleep pulled me into its comfortable darkness.


	3. Full Mourning

The afternoon sun shone happily through the lace curtains. I awoke later than I had anticipated. I knew why I overslept, and the thought made me smile. My moment of peace was quickly shattered by Mother’s shrill call up the stairs. I deeply inhaled the fresh, earthy air from my still-open window.

“Coming, Mother,” I exhaled. I passed my vanity and almost shrieked at the sight of my hair. I rushed to comb it out into something semi-presentable, then once satisfied, returned to my task of finding out what Mother wanted from me this early—late.

“Where is my hair pin?”

“What?” I entered the kitchen to see her rustling through some drawers.

“The one with the jade butterfly. You took it. I know you did.”

“Why would I have taken your hair pin?” She turned to look in another drawer, and I saw the gem nestled in her hair. I chuckled, waiting to see how long I could keep her going. “Aren’t you supposed to be in full mourning, anyway?” She looked up, and I swear, she could have killed me on the spot with that look.

“Aren’t _you_? Your sister just died.”

“Mother, I don’t have all-black nightgowns,” I teased.

“How are you so lighthearted? How can you be so cheerful after such a traumatic event like this? Did you even care about Cecilia?”

“Cecilia wouldn’t want us to mourn her! She would want us to celebrate her life!”

“How would _you_ know? You didn’t spend any time with her while she was alive!”

“She didn’t want me contracting the Tuberculosis! She told me herself! She and I agreed that I would see her the most I could, but when the disease got worse, I would stop. She chose to keep me away!” I took a breath. “It’s not like it would have mattered much anyway,” I muttered. “You would have rather I died, too.” Mother stood there dumbfounded. “Don’t you _dare_ tell me I did not care for Ceci.” I turned toward the door, but stopped for a moment. “As for your hair pin…” She looked at me like she was about to catch me in the act of theft, even after our argument. “It’s in your hair.”

I didn’t look back to see her reaction.

 

* * *

 

It was getting later. The sun was setting, the air felt cooler, and I wasn’t ready for my date with Thomas. In fact, I was still in my night dress. After my fight with Mother, I ran down to the creek at the back of our estate. Hidden behind some woods, there was an old swing hanging from a willow tree that Sister and I used to play on during our childhood. I sat on it, letting the wind swing me back and forth. I couldn’t stand Mother’s preposterous lashing out anymore. She drove me up a wall with her incessant nagging and false accusations. The only way I could handle Cecilia’s death without completely losing my sanity was my sense of humor. Mother took that away from me whenever she had the chance. Without it, I felt useless and empty.

“I thought I might find you here.” I didn’t bother turning around. Richard walked around the swing and knelt down before me, folding the tall the grass with him.

“I wish she would shut up and think once in a while.” We sat in silence, listening to the babbling water of the creek. “I’m surprised you don’t share her sentiments.”

“(Y/n), you’re my dearest friend. I know you cared for Ceci, and I want you to know that your father and I care about you.” Richard and I had been friends since we were children. He was two years my older, and one year Cecilia’s younger. We spent most of our summers down here. My favorite thing to do was play detective with Richard. He would be the criminal, and I would play as the investigator. He would kidnap Cecilia and take her to his hideout. He was always smitten with her, and in my more mischievous days, I set it up so whenever we played, they’d have lots of time with each other.

“Thank you.” I poked at the dirt under the swing with my toes, letting the soft grass tickle my calves. “That means a lot, Ricky.”

“Lord, no one’s called me that in ages,” he laughed. I chuckled back.

“I haven’t been able to call you that in a while. Feels kind of…good. Natural.” The warm breeze kissed the back of my neck, and I smiled a bit sadly. Sister never liked him being called Ricky. She thought that it was crass and didn’t fit a man such as him: a man with money. Ceci always told me to go for someone with similar traits as Richard: simple, intelligent, and wealthy. I mean, she didn’t love him just for his money, but she definitely benefited from it. I don’t really think she appreciated him the way I did. The size of his wallet wasn’t everything. He was kind, funny, witty, and I loved him like a brother.

“Don’t you have a date soon?” he asked, absent-mindedly ripping grass from the ground and watching it fall back to the earth. In another world, I think I might have fallen for Richard.

“Yes… I may cancel. I don’t really think I’m up to going out.”

“We can always change our plans.” I turned to see Thomas with a bouquet of daisies in hand. Immediately, I felt my mood lighten. I jumped up from the swing and hugged him tight.

“I’m sorry that I’m not ready,” I mumbled into his chest. “I just…my mother…”

“It’s alright, (y/n).” He held me for a few extra moments before releasing me.

“Thomas, this is Richard North, my sister’s fiancé and my oldest friend. Richard, this is Sir Thomas Sharpe.” The two greeted each other with warm smiles and a firm handshake.

“How do you do, Thomas?”

“I could be better. And you, Richard?”

“Likewise,” he sighed. We all stood in comfortable silence before Richard announced his departure. I kissed his cheek, and Thomas tipped his hat to him as he walked back toward the house.

“So what happened with your mother?”

“Must we really talk about this?” I sighed.

“Well, no. But I’d like to know so I know what to expect when I meet her.” I took his hand in mine, leading him to the trunk of the tree.

“We could just stay here and enjoy the shade. I’m not even that hungry.” My stomach rumbled, and I looked down, offended that it would betray my plans this way.

“‘The _belly_ doth protest too much, methinks,’” he quoted the famous line from Hamlet, adding his own flair. I bellowed with laughter.

“Alright, you win.”

“Tell you what, darling.” His blue eyes found mine. “We’ll have a picnic here instead of going out. We can relax, and you don’t even have to change.”

“That sounds marvelous! Though, I think I _am_ going to change into something a little less scandalous.” Thomas laughed and took my hand, and we made our way to the house. He stopped me again for a moment so he could present the bouquet of flowers to me in a more regal fashion, rather than simply handing them over. "How did you know I like daisies?"

"I just knew," he answered, smugly. I elbowed his ribs in jest. "Okay, I may have noticed the daisy paintings in your bedroom last night." I brought the flowers to my nose and sniffed them.

 

* * *

 

Somehow, by some act of whatever gods existed, Thomas won over _both_ of my parents. Mother still wasn’t in the best mood, and I was by no means on speaking terms with her, but she was palatable enough for the time. I could tell she was forcing herself to not fawn over Thomas simply because she held a grudge against me. Papa and Thomas instantly formed a connection, and I was grateful. They laughed at each other’s jokes and even held an in depth conversation about the changing seasons. I excused myself to the kitchen to prepare a picnic basket after having a lengthy stare-down with Mother.

I found Richard sitting at the small table, sipping tea and reading the newspaper. He looked up as I entered. His attempt at a smile didn’t hold much joy.

“Ceci’s obituary.” He motioned to the paper. I pulled up a chair next to him and took the parchment. I read it to the end.

“‘ _Loving sister, daughter, and fiancée._ ’ How appropriate,” I mumbled, trying to keep the tears from spilling over onto my cheeks. “It’s too short.”

“What?” Richard looked over at me just as I wiped away a stray tear.

“If she had been a princess, or even just a socialite, it would have been at least half a page.”

“Well, there isn’t much to talk about.”

“Of course there is,” I whimpered. “She’s done plenty of things worth mentioning. Why aren’t they here?” Richard pulled me into his arms and shushed me.

“I suppose bottling up your emotions with a shot of humor isn’t working well enough,” he tried. I laughed through a sob and sniffled.

“I suppose not.” I wiped my eyes with the collar of my nightgown just as Thomas walked in.

“What happened?” He rushed over to me and knelt by my side. I smiled sadly at him with fresh tears falling.

“My sister is dead, Thomas,” I sniffle-laughed dryly again. “Haven’t you heard? Oh, probably not; the paper barely covered it.” I collapsed into a sobbing mess with my head on Richard’s shoulder. I felt Thomas’s tentative hand move to rub soothing circles on my lower back.

“It’s all too overwhelming,” I cried. “Cecilia’s dead. Mother hates me. Hell, she thinks I’m the spawn of Satan.” I sat up and rubbed my puffy eyes. “I’m sorry, Thomas.”

“Hush, darling. There is no need to apologize to me.”

“This was supposed to be a fun, carefree night, and here we are: me, sobbing in my kitchen and you, forced into comforting me.”

“(Y/n), no one’s forcing me to do anything.” He held my chin up with his fingers. “I’m here because I care about you.”

“Thank you.” The three of us sat in silence for what felt like hours. Eventually, Thomas got up and found a basket, and prepared food for us to take back down to the willow tree. Richard retrieved a blanket for us, and I hugged it to my chest as Thomas and I left for our destination.


End file.
